


If night falls in your heart (I'd light the fire)

by intothenowhere



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Bonding, Canon Compliant, F/M, Friendship, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 16:17:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16021514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intothenowhere/pseuds/intothenowhere
Summary: Poe Dameron always has his head in the skies. Rose Tico always has her feet on the ground. Somehow, their paths keep colliding - and sparks will fly.





	If night falls in your heart (I'd light the fire)

**Author's Note:**

> This was initially requested by hanorganaas on Tumblr - a fleeting moment between Poe and Rose set around the time of the Force Awakens. But I can't do anything in moderation, so I've decided to write the magnum opus on PoeRose. It's gonna be one helluva slowburn, so brace yourselves?
> 
> Quick thanks to Eva (evaceratops on Tumblr) for editing, and Kaz (softmeeko on Tumblr) for cheering me on!
> 
> Title is from Start A Riot by Banners.

Rose sighed, swiping away a bead of sweat that had begun to slip through her eyebrow. She sank back into the ground, relief instantly flooding through the muscles in her legs. She glanced down at her chronometer, and groaned when she realized how late it was - she'd been working on the internal wiring in the base’s systems for over two hours. 

 

Groaning, Rose stood and began to collect her tools. The systems could hold out for another night, or at least long enough for her to grab a quick meal. Making sure her ponytail was still fixed in place, and that her hands were mostly clean, Rose began her trek to the mess hall, stomach rumbling.

 

During her path to the mess, she passed the medbay, which on first cursory glance was dark and empty - but a quick, angry growl of  _ kriff it all _ proved otherwise.

 

Rose hesitated on the balls of her feet, glancing between the medbay and the mess. Her curiosity won out, and she slipped into the darkened room. 

 

“Hello?” She called out, fumbling for a switch. When she finally landed on it, the room flooded with bright artificial light, and another noise filled the air: a sharp cry of surprise.

 

“Nine  _ hells,  _ that's bright -” the voice belonged to a man with bronzed skin, dark curls, who was currently clad only in a ragged shirt that might have been white once, and similarly torn trousers, who was currently blocking the light from his eyes as his legs swung back and forth in mid air as he fumbled with something on one of the beds.

 

Rose froze, her mouth dropping open as she stared at the blood smeared across his face, the bruises, the sweat. He looked like he'd been run over by a horde of Tauntauns. “What happened to you?”

 

Poe Dameron lowered his hand, his eyes adjusting to the light. “It's well past midnight, why are you still up…?” 

 

“Rose Tico. I could ask the same about why you're in the medbay alone, looking like  _ that _ -” Rose replied, stepping closer to get a better look at him. The wounds weren't that deep, but she wished Kalonia was around to check him for a concussion. “I thought you were off base?”

 

“Keeping check on me, Tico?” Poe asked as she slapped his hand away from the alcohol wipes and bacta patches.

 

“I'm a mechanic,” Rose replied as she tore open one of the alcohol wipes, and moving to clean the cut on his cheek. “I hear a lot of things around base. Don't think you're so special.” Poe instinctively leaned away from her and the wipe, but a stern glare made him concede, and she pressed the wet cloth against the cut. 

 

He hissed as the alcohol slipped into the wound. Rose mumbled an apology, pulling the cloth away and moving to inspect him for any other injuries. He waved his hand, “'m pretty sure everything else is internal.”

 

She narrowed her eyes, “And you've not called Kalonia  _ why _ ?”

 

“Because it's midnight, and I don't need anyone fussing over me,” Poe replied with a shrug. “She's got enough on her hands, same as you.”

 

Rose rolled her eyes, “You're right, I do. Yet here I am, fixing up the Resistance's Golden boy.”

 

Poe’s eyes widened gleefully, “Was that sarcasm I detected?”

 

She pulled open one of the bacta patches. “I don't do talking a lot,” she admitted. “In fact, I'm pretty sure this is the most I've talked to anyone other than Paige or Lazslo.”

 

“You're great at it,” Poe commented as she pressed the bacta patch under his eye. “Talking. And patching me up.”

 

“Thanks,” Rose mumbled. “Still, you didn't get this way on your own. What happened?”

 

Poe’s expression clouded, and his brown eyes flicked away from her to the ground, “Mission went south. I got captured by the First Order - lost BB-8, the map, and whatever chance we had at winning this war.”

 

Rose inhaled sharply - whatever she'd been expecting, it wasn't  _ that.  _ Poe shook his head, waving her away. “Sorry, sorry, I shouldn't have dumped that on you -”

 

“Poe, it's alright,” Rose said, grabbing his hand on impulse and squeezing it reassuringly. “I asked, remember?”

 

Poe watched her for a moment, his thought process playing out across his expression. He finally settled on a look of pure exhaustion, and ground at his eyes with his palms, before shaking his head like he was trying to wake himself.

 

“It was bad, I didn't think -” his voice hitched. “I didn't think I'd make it back.”

 

She shuddered involuntarily as she thought of what he must've been put through, her eyes automatically sweeping him over, committing his injuries to memory - and the more bruises she caught, the angrier she became.

 

The First Order was  _ still  _ demolishing lives, taking what they wanted when they wanted it, without a care in the galaxy of what the consequences would be for everyone else. They beat people till they were bloody pulps, tortured them,  _ murdered  _ them - 

 

And the damn Senate had elected to do  _ nothing.  _

 

“Hey,” a quick squeeze to her arm, “Rose, you alright?”

 

She looked up to find a pair of warm brown eyes focused on her, and realized she was gripping one of the bacta patches with white knuckles. Loosening her grip, Rose nodded. “Yeah, sorry, it's just -” she faltered, not in the mood to explain, but Poe seemed to understand anyway.

 

“The First Order does that,” he said with a nod, then clapped his hands against his legs and asked in a purposely lighter tone, “You never answered - why are you up so late?”

 

“I was rewiring the systems,” Rose answered as he hopped off the bed to help put away the supplies. She discarded the open packs into a rubbish bin. “Lost track of time, realized I was starving and decided to grab something to eat.”

 

When she turned around, Poe was staring at her with a look of abject horror. “It's past  _ midnight, _ ” he said appallingly, “and you haven't ate anything?”

 

Rose gave a sheepish smile accompanied with a shrug, “Not really?”

 

“When was the last time you ate?” Poe asked, folding his arms and reminding her of Paige. After a full minute of thinking, Poe shook his head. “Nope, that's it. You sew me up, I buy you dinner.”

 

“It's a mess hall, Poe. The food is free,” Rose argued, even as he steered her out of the medbay and towards her original destination.

 

“Perhaps, but have you ever drank caf the way General Organa makes it?” Rose shook her head. “The stuff’s stronger than a Wookie. Luckily, I know precisely how to make it.”

 

As Poe moved towards the caf machine, Rose headed the opposite way to find something suitable to eat. She finally settled on a soup made with fruits native to Naboo, and headed towards the table Poe was settled at. He has both legs stretched out across his side of the bench as he scrolled through a datapad he had positioned in his lap, while his free hand held his cup of caf. 

 

Rose sat down across from him, properly, and noticed the second cup of caf in between them, two tin canisters sat beside it. Poe looked up, set the holopad aside, and motioned at the canisters, “I didn't know how you take your caf, so I just brought the cream and sugar.”

 

“Thanks,” Rose said, pulling them closer so she could fix her caf. “When'd you grab a datapad?”

 

“Had it with me when I went to the medbay,” Poe answered, scrubbing his face. “I've got to work on a report for Leia which I'm not looking forward to.”

 

“Why?” Rose asked curiously. 

 

Poe hesitated for a moment, getting a far off look in his eye, “Because the truth is gonna hurt her, and I don't want to be the one to tell her. But I'm the only one who can.”

 

Rose considered that for a moment, mulling it over as she took a mouthful of soup. “General Organa is a tough lady,” she said finally, “I think whatever it is, she can handle it.”

 

“I  _ know _ she can. I just hate that she has to.”

 

“Yeah, it isn't fair,” Rose agreed, “and for what's it worth, I'm sorry you have to tell her.”

 

Poe flicked his eyes up to meet hers, surprise flashing behind those brown irises, like he'd forgotten what it was like to have someone acknowledge his struggles, too.

 

“Thanks,” Poe whispered. He nodded towards her soup, “Is it any good?”

 

“Not really,” Rose admitted, “and I think whoever said these fruit were from Naboo was lying.”

 

Poe laughed, taking another sip of his caf, “They probably were. Pretty sure those came from Aleen, actually.”

 

They fell into a comfortable silence, Poe scrolling through his datapad as Rose sipped on her soup. More than once, Rose was struck by the fact that she was hanging out with one of the Resistance's greatest heroes - and that she wasn't shy or reserved around him. Sure, she was still a bit moonstruck by him, but Poe was refreshingly  _ grounded.  _

 

“You know,” Poe said abruptly, “you're making a habit of saving my skin.”

 

Rose hesitated, “What?”

 

Poe leaned forward, smiling. “You never gave me your name before, but  _ you're  _ the shy mechanic girl who saved me from those First Order ships. With the door?”

 

Rose flicked her eyes away sheepishly, “All I did was get the hanger door to open. The squadron saved you.”

 

“Wouldn't have gotten that far without you, Tico. And now you've patched up my injuries.” His tone sombered abruptly, “Thank you, by the way.”

 

“No problem,” Rose managed with a shy smile. Poe grinned then looked down at his chronometer, his expression dropping.

 

“Time for a meeting with the General,” Poe replied, sliding off the bench, and stretching. “Tell her the bad news.” 

 

“Good luck,” Rose offered meekly. He grinned at that, and nodded, before heading in the direction of the exit.

 

“Hey, Poe?” Rose called out. 

 

He stopped, turning around to face her, a quizzical expression on his face.

 

“Thanks for dinner,” Rose said earnestly.

 

Even from this distance, Rose could tell the following smile Poe gave was brighter than any sun she'd ever seen. And then he was gone, leaving her alone with her caf and soup.


End file.
